He doesn't have an enemy. All his friends hate him.
He has a mechanical mind but keeps forgetting to wind it up.
He has such a long face the barbers charge him twice for shaving.
He has teeth like the Ten Commandments — all broken!
He reminds me of a toothache I once had!
He's a buried treasure. Too bad they dug him up.
He's got a photographic mind. Too bad it never developed.
I like your dress, but aren't you a little early for Halloween?
I wish you were a headache. Then I could take an aspirin, and you'd go away.
If there's an idea in his head, it's in solitary confinement.
Is that your real face, or are you still celebrating Halloween?
What's new besides your teeth?